I didn't think it would get this far. I always wanted to tell him no, I always wanted to tell him that we should stop this little charade and actually become something real. Not just playing house while you're away. He never wanted to though. I was like a fish and he was my green light.
On our first meeting, you thought I was a maid. On our second, you thought I was his cousin. When you caught us in bed together- there was no way to get out of that one. I honestly don't even know how I left that house in one piece.
I'm truly sorry for all the pain I may have caused you. The restless nights- the concerning hushed phone calls down the hall- I thought he was discreet. I thought you wouldn't catch on because he is a very good liar. Too good but, you probably already knew that, huh?
I was never jealous of you. Don't ever think that. How could I be jealous of you? With your so-called perfect life with the kids and the perfect job and those perfect set of tits- he told me that you begged him to buy them for you. You're fake so how could I ever be jealous?
I bet your friends laugh at you behind your back. I bet they post about how much they are grateful to have you but then when you're gone, they always snicker and glare at your "success". How could I be jealous when you have such friends? I never had any intention to get with him. I just wanted him for his money.
His first words to me were, "If I said you had a good body would you hold it against me?". I was shocked by his boldness and I laughed it off. I wanted to be mysterious.
I shrugged and played with the orange that was on the side of my glass. I played with the zity orange until I knew the smell would stay on my fingers. I wanted him to think of oranges as he led me to his room. I wanted him to think of me while you make freshly squeezed orange juice in the morning for your little family.
"So, is it that bad?", he asked and sat down next to me. He smelt of cigarettes and sadness. I knew he only wanted my body so I scooted away from him, just a little. I wanted to tempt him. Make him beg for it.
"Tell me about it," I said with a forceful smile. I had nothing going on that day and knew he needed some sob story to make him feel better about himself. I knew he needed an excuse to still talk to me. He laughed and his nose crinkled. His gold rolex twinkled under the bright lights and I could smell his hair gel from here. I examined him some more and he stared.
"Like what you see, Mon chat?" He grinned and continued to slip his martini.
"Mon chat?" I asked, intrigued by his extended vocabulary. He chuckled and placed his glass down, putting all of his attention on me.
"It means my cat. It's french" he whispered in my ear, making me shiver. He placed his hand on my back and rubbed it slowly. Ever so often, he would find my bra strap and pluck it.
"Actually, my name's Reina. It means queen. It's spanish" I said to him, jokingly. He pushed his head back and laughed. His wrinkles were very noticeable under the golden light. People from different tables look over at us, silently judging from the darkness. They knew we looked too different from each other, they knew about the age gap.
"Mi Reina. My queen. I like it. The name's Evan.", he winked and turned to face the bartender. He lifted his glass as a sign for more wine, like a toddler demanding more food. The bartender rushed to his side and poured just the right amount for him. He nodded his head without saying thank you and turned back to me.
"Why is a beautiful woman like yourself, here all alone?", he whispered to me and grinned. He leaned more into the light, I could see his grey hair.
"Why do you think I'm all alone?", I asked, intriguingly. He chuckled and sighed before speaking. "I can tell. I have a sense for these kind of things"
A predatory sense?
I hold in my laughter and smile at him. I move a strand of hair behind my ear and tapped my semi-empty glass. He noticed and said, "Want another one? Or do you want something more...fulfilling?"
Was this his clever way of suggesting I'd go to some kind of sleazy hotel with him? Possibly but, I needed to play hard to get. I can't seem too eager.
"Oh? Fulfilling? What exactly did you have in mind?", I prop my elbow up onto the bar counter and place my chin onto my hand. I smile at him teasingly. We both knew what he meant by that, the only thing I need now is for him to say it.
He smirked at me while he bit his lower lip. He looked me up and down before reaching out and touching my cheek. How bold of him.
"You have a beautiful face...it goes perfectly with that beautiful red dress.", He whispered and placed a hand on my thigh, I didn't move. "I must be a lucky bastard to have the privilege of undressing you later."
Usually those type of pick-up lines don't phase me but...there's something about that one. I never heard it before, it was different. It felt like he was actually admiring how I look. Not just my body but my face, my words...I was becoming too eager. It's like my body moved on its own and I didn't realize what happened until I hit those soft silk bedsheets.
As I lay there, in my red dress...I look up at the man I spoke to at the bar. His charming personality was still there but it felt off. A good kind of off. It was like he had something else underneath his dashing smile, the way he looked at me like he was hungry. Like he hadn't eaten in years and I was his first meal. Many guys looked at me like that but for some reason, his felt genuine. It felt like he actually cared about my needs and not his own.
Why was this different? It shouldn't be.
Is this what you experience everyday? Is this the type of treatment that you get? I doubt it; because I have him while you are at home. While you're taking care of the kids, while you're making dinner, while you're waiting for him to arrive from work so that you can talk to him about his day as he conveniently leaves me out of the story.
With that, I say to you...how can I be jealous if I'm with him and you aren't?